


Werewolves, Snowstorms, and Yetis, oh my.

by Littlebluejay_hidingpeanuts, LittleBluejay_SingingSongs



Series: Bedtime stories [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: High School Students, M/M, Waitress - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 03:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14370369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlebluejay_hidingpeanuts/pseuds/Littlebluejay_hidingpeanuts, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleBluejay_SingingSongs/pseuds/LittleBluejay_SingingSongs
Summary: Sam and Dean investigate tracks showing a human to werewolf transformation. Eat. Check out a Yeti. Sleep in a cabin. Castiel visits Dean. The wrath of Castiel.





	1. Werewolves.

 

 

“Dean, what are we doing?” Sam looked up from the paw prints, stretched, and looked absently at the surrounding forest.

  
“We’re spending hours following fake footprints. That’s what we’re doing,” said Dean, farther ahead on the trail, bent over, looking down. “Obviously the human prints stop, and the dog tracks start. Or it goes the other way, dog tracks become human foot prints. At each change, see here,” he pointed down, then up at a branch, “and up here. Every time the tracks change, there is something to grab onto.”

  
“Yes.” Sam said a little icily. “One time the change was right next to a big rock. That makes five times, we’ve found the tracks change from animal to human, or human to animal. All five times, there is something that allows you to somehow balance as you make the change. So, again, they’re a FAKE. ”

  
“It looks very suspicious.”

  
“So, let’s stop wasting our time, and let’s go.”

  
“Also, werewolves don’t change back and forth, back and forth.” Dean flipped his hand back and forth.

  
Sam sighed, “Neither do shifters, they change and they stay that way. So, yes. It’s fake, Dean. Can we leave, now?”

  
“No.” Dean said stubbornly, “I gotta know how they did it.”

  
Sam followed Dean, saying, “I think the spacing of the animal prints, looks off somehow. What do you think?” They came across another change from human back to dog tracks. “And here is the tree.”

  
Dean went down on his hands and knees, examining very closely every print. He tried to measure the distance between prints using his hands.

  
Sam stood nearby daydreaming, “I got it.” Then more firmly, “I got it, Dean.” He walked over to Dean.

  
“Okay,” Dean stood up, “How’d they do it?”

  
“First, they wanted the prints to show up, so it had to rain. But, not so wet, that they would slide around.”

  
“So, they wait a day or two.”

  
“Right, they come out when the ground is just damp, almost dry, to set up their illusion. Also, whoever did this, did not have help from people, off to the sides of the trail, or their tracks would show.” Sam waved to where he had been absently staring earlier.

  
Dean nodded yes, and looked around, “Yes, we have not seen any tracks of anyone, off to the sides,” Dean had not noticed and was glad Sam had. He looked back at Sam.

  
Sam thought Dean looked hilarious with his arms spread wide, and his hands pointing down. Like a scarecrow. Sam tried not to smile. “Second, it’s two people. Because if it was one person, changing into shoes that look like dog prints, and using sticks, maybe, with paw shaped bottoms, the tracks would never look right, because of the weight distribution. Their rear legs would always dig deeper, than the front legs. And these don’t.”

  
“These people are very clever,” said Dean and he waved his index finger up and down.

  
“So. Two people. The human tracks look off, too short a stride, too small a foot and they sink into the mud, too deeply. Because one person is carrying the other. And. The small size tells us that they are not adults. Look at the human prints.”

  
Dean looked down again, “Sam, everybody’s prints look small next to yours.” He looked up at Sam, smiling. He looked down again.

  
Sam continued, “These are made from one person, and the ones on the other trail, are made from a different person.” Sam paused. “Maybe they switched places?”

 

Dean thought some more and added, “Or maybe there are two teams, running around here, having fun, teasing everyone.”

  
“Who knows? Maybe there are three.. maybe it’s a competition. Who can make the most believable illusion.”

  
“Maybe it’s practice.” They looked at each other.

  
“Whoever is the best, takes their show on the road. You’re right Dean, we need pictures of these prints.” Sam took out his phone and started taking photos. “But the illusion is this person must be a heavy for their size, and a slow moving kind of person, who becomes a large dog. Maybe they even ‘speculate’ in a story, on line, that it was a werewolf.”

  
“The human tracks are always in places where it is easier to walk. Flatter terrain, and not under trees.”

  
“Because the one on top, would get knocked off.”

  
“They are too tall.”

  
“Right.” Sam paused from taking photos, “And maybe they make their stride longer, when they are a dog, by wearing stilts, short ones maybe, but still, they have a longer stride. And on the bottom, of the stilt, is a shoe or some sort of form, made to  look like a huge dogs’ print.” He shrugged.

  
“Which they switch to, every time they can sit or hang off a tree.”

  
“They had to practice a whole lot, because one did the front legs, and the other did the back. Maybe? Or maybe the other way, one did, wait,” Sam paused and stared again, “One did the front left and the back right,” he nodded yes, “And the other did the front right and back left.”

  
Dean laughed saying, “Your not kidding about practicing. Remember that spot where the dog jumped up, they were just taking a step up for each of them.” Dean began the trip back to Baby.

 

  
Castiel arrived. He stood quietly, invisible, watching and listening to Sam and Dean. When he heard someone talking about a old black car and how clean it was, he left them and moved to a spot near Dean’s car. A group of children, of just about adult height were looking over Dean’s car. He listened to them talk about a radio. Castiel heard a prayer, he left.

 

  
Sam followed Dean through the woods, “I think whoever did this, lives here, and knows these woods very well. They worked out the route. And I think it’s local kids, who are learning to do something that requires balance, strength, something like circus performers, or gymnasts.” Sam looked around and continued, “The one on the bottom gets tired, so they switch places. Maybe that’s why the human prints are different on different trails.”

  
Dean stopped and looked back at Sam,“The doggie version is easier, weight wise, so they do that longer, than when they have to carry their partner.”

  
“I think so. So, why are they doing this? Just for fun?”

  
Dean shrugged, “Who knows, who cares? Kids do dumb things.” He continued walking. He didn’t realize how far into the woods they had gone. The trail opened up, Dean paused and Sam caught up. They walked side by side, separated by a few feet. Dean said, “I know a kid who shot frogs. Stupidest thing ever. The mosquito’s were in the billions that summer. He never shot a frog again.” Dean smiled.

  
Sam laughed, “Was that you?”

  
Dean stared at his brother. “No, Sam. I do not kill frogs. I have enough real monsters to kill. I don’t need to do it for sport.”

  
“Sorry, sorry. I just like to think there was a time when you were a kid.”

  
As Sam and Dean returned to the parking lot, the group of kids, ‘hanging around’, had gathered near the impala. They were all talking at the same time. They were saying: “Here they come.” “Get away from the car.” “ We got enough pictures?” “Yeah.” “Are you sure it’s going to stay on?” “Shush.”

The leader of the group threw a rock into the woods, where it hit a tree square on. One boy in a green shirt, dropped out of a tree. A third student wearing the local high school mascot shirt, the kind with a rectangle for your name, asked “Are you guys tired of looking for the monsters?”

  
Dean laughed at him, took out his keys and unlocked Baby. Sam said, “There are no monsters in these woods.”

  
“Yes, there are,” said mascot.

  
“There are too,” said green shirt, who took a half step back, looking like he was afraid of being attacked.

  
Sam and Dean both looked at green shirt. They looked at each other and smiled. Dean turned back to green shirt saying, “All the tracks in there are fake.”

  
The leader, a girl with yellow and pink hair, brightened up. “How can you tell?” she asked laughing.

  
“Like we’d tell you!” Said Dean getting into Baby. He and Sam both laughed. Sam looked back at her, as he got into Baby. She was no longer smiling and was giving Sam a look, best described as level. The girls were all taking photos. As they drove away, Dean watched them in his rear view mirror. They were all clearly watching Baby leave.

  
Sam said, “Hey, maybe students in a marching band, they put in a lot of hours practicing walking in time with each other, that would help with the dog tracks. And carrying an instrument, that helps them build up the upper body strength, for carrying each other. Cheerleaders and gymnastics students, they all have to do lots of balance exercises, learning to leap, and picking up, and holding each other.” They both laughed. “And the dog’s feet are so huge, to cover the base of the stilt.”

  
“They spent a lot of time making those paws.”

  
“Dean. Those kids, they were all girls, except two boys. Except for the girl with the hair, the boys did all the talking.”

  
“So.”

  
“Do you think those two boys are about the same height? And close to being the same weight.”

  
“One jumped out of a tree.”

  
With a big smile, Dean said, “I bet it was them! Bet they are in March-ing Band!” They laughed again, Sam looked out the window smiling, thinking about the expression on the pink/yellow haired girl. His smile faded. What did that look mean?


	2. Castiel doing his job.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel answers a prayer.

Meanwhile, several states away, Castiel arrived at a plane, about to crash into a hillside. Being invisible, sometimes gave him a strange view of the world, he felt solid and real, and the plane looked transparent, as he reached out his hand and placed two fingers on the forehead of the woman, as she prayed, causing her to fall asleep. In the next second the wing and the rest of the small two seater plane passed through him. The plane crash into the trees.

 

Castiel hovered. He watched the crash, as the man and woman perished. He watched as two songbirds and their nest perished. Several beetles, and hundreds of ants perished. He zipped down and rescued a ground squirrel, by helping a log to fall, between the squirrel and the flames.


	3. Sam and Dean go hunting for Yeti.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There be Yeti’s up this mountain?

Sam and Dean, stopped for lunch. The diner had a cork board with many ‘missing’ and ‘lost’ flyers hung on it. Sam took a look. Dean gave it a cursory glance, to see if anything was in their wheelhouse, thinking; ‘people go missing, it’s the job of the Police to find them. So what does that make us? Supernatural Trackers Of Normal People!’ Sam finally went inside. Dean followed, wondering if Sam’s talking to the waitress, was because he was going to ask her out, or they were talking about the flyers? They were talking about the flyers. Dean wasn’t listening to what she was saying so much as he noticed her voice.

 

The waitress declared positively, “It was a yeti, a real live Yeti!” She handed them menus, “Eating people”, she added with a big grin. She turned to walk away, then turned back, and pointed out the window, “Right over there.” The boys looked out the window, across the street, across acres of fields, to a snow peaked mountain.

 

“Another monster?”asked Dean, as he thought about how nice her voice sounded. “Locals and their ‘right over there’, that could be anywhere from the length of Baby to someplace in the next county. The only description better than ‘right over there’, is prit’near.”

 

Sam shrugged and opened his laptop. He looked up yeti stories, then a map for the area. He looked at Dean, “We can take a look. There is only one road.” He turned the laptop around, “Okay, most of the missing people, their cars have been found at a place marked as ‘vista view’.”

 

The waitress came back and they ordered. Dean smiled at the waitress, she smiled back.

 

“I’ve always wanted to see a yeti.” Said Dean, dryly, with a smile in his eyes.

 

“She said it’s only up the hill, Dean.”

 

“Only up the hill? What if it’s a G16?” A reference to a road, that while appearing on a map as having two or three gentle curves, had no actual straight or level sections, for it’s entire length.

 

As they left, Sam checked the board again. He counted over a dozen missing notices, “Seriously.”

 

They headed up into the mountains. The weather was good and they made good time. There were a few sharp turns, and the end of the trip was rather gnarly. An hour and a half later, from the time they left the restaurant, they reached the Vista view. The side of the road had been enlarged to hold twenty or more autos. Along the outer rim was a wide waist-high rock wall. A picnic table with an awning had been built-in, roughly in the center of the arc of the wall.

 

Dean parked next to the table. They got out. “I’ll go that way.” Dean pointed to the left side of the arc.

 

Sam nodded, “Yeah okay, I’ll take this side. Then we cross the street” he turned away from the view, towards the side of the hill, looming above them, “Then follow the edge of the forest, the hill, until we meet?”

 

“Sounds good.” Dean was already walking towards the edge of the wall, checking it out. At the end of the wall, Dean stepped around it and looked back at Sam, then he took a piss. Dean wlked up the road a ways, then continued across the street. And worked his way back down. Later they met in the middle. “I didn’t see anything, that even remotely looked like something happened here.”

 

“Yeah, we’ll have to come back again, and follow the trails.”

 

It was dusk, Dean turned towards Baby.

 

“Give me a second Dean.”

 

Dean looked back briefly, “Yeah, okay.” He started Baby, and drove over to the edge of the road. Sam stepped out from behind shrubs, and got into Baby. They began the descent down the hill. The clouds were building up and darkening.

 

It started to rain. Dean turned on the headlights. The rain was suddenly pounding, and just as suddenly the rain turned to snow.

 

“This is like being in a snow globe.” Said Sam as he looked at the swirling white mass.

 

Dean briefly glanced at Sam.

 

“Maybe that cabin, we saw on the way up?” Asked Sam.

 

“I think your right Sammy.” One side of the road was now a river of run off, and the other a black abyss. The rain and snow made everything slushy. They traveled slower and slower, as the snow built up on the road. Baby fishtailed on a curve. Dean slowed to ten miles per hour, then five. Sam saw Dean was white knuckling the steering wheel. He made sure his door was unlocked. 

 

Thick snow covered the trees. What had taken an hour earlier, was taking three now. They reached the dark cabin and parked next to it.

 

Sam got out and stretched, he shut his door and went to the cabin door, “Check it!” He said with glee, as he opened the cabin door.

 

“All right.” Dean had opened the snow covered trunk and was taking out an emergency pack, from way in the back. Inside, the cabin was bare, except for a sofa. Sam was poking thru the wood near the fireplace, and was patting around on the floor, looking for kindling. Dean shut the door, shook the snow off, and took a flashlight out of the pack, switching it on. He set the pack on the sofa, which he shoved over to the fireplace, with a loud scraping sound. He set the light on the floor near Sam.

 

“Is there anything for kindling over there?”

 

Dean took the light and went to the kitchen area, “Sammy I don’t think anyone’s been here for a long time. How about this.” He handed Sam the paper that had been lining the empty shelves.

 

“Good. That’ll work.”

 

Dean set the flashlight back on the floor. He went back to the pack. “One six pack of beer”, he peeled one off, opened it, set it next to the flashlight, and opened a second beer, and took a drink. He felt around some more, “one disposable phone, one pocket knife, one can of beans, one can opener, batteries for the phone.” Dean grinned, “one pack of matches”, which he handed to Sam. He opened the beans and set the can on the mantel. “One rope and a plastic bag of Mylar blankets, and a whistle. A whistle? Really?” He returned the whistle, rope, phone, batteries, knife and opener to the pack. He placed it on one end of the sofa. There was no other furniture. He peered around into the darkness, drinking his beer. “No bathroom. Really?” He looked at the windows, covered with frost. “It looks like a cabin with no bathroom. Hey a ladder. Are you done?”

 

“Give it a second.” The paper had lit, he added twigs and bark. Sam used the flashlight to look thru the pile for branches, when he found just what he wanted, he offered the light back,“Okay, fine.” He started to add the branches.

 

Dean took the flashlight up into the attic, which was very small and empty except for a mattress. Dean pushed empty beer cans and the wine bottles away from it, then pushed it down the hole, it landed with a phoom sound. And picked up the dust. Dean climbed down a few rungs, reached up and pulled the attic door shut, “You can take the sofa, and I’ll sleep on this.”

 

Sam walked over and pulled the mattress over to the fire, “I don’t know which is worse. The sofa or this, this is a really hideous mattress.”

 

“Here, let’s put it in front of the fire to get it warmed up.” Dean move the sofa back a bit, adjusted the sofa just so. He took his beer and sat on the sofa, with his feet on the mattress, “Good looking fire, Sammy.” The fire now had a couple larger logs.

 

“Thanks. If that wood hadn’t been here, we’d be out, in that. Oh, the beans.” Sam moved the can next to the fire. He picked up his beer and looked at his watch, seven nineteen. “It’s not even seven thirty. We got a long night ahead of us. This thing smells bad, you sure you want to sleep on it?” Sam said smiling.

 

“I’ll be fine.” The fire gave off snapping and crackling sounds.

 

The couch is not big enough for two, nor is the mattress, Sam mused to himself, he checked a window, with a fingernail, he scraped at the frost. Then observed “Wow, it’s really coming down. There isn’t any other option, is there?”

 

“We can eat beans!” Dean exclaimed with a smile, then paused, “I should check if this place has water.”

 

“Ew, no way. Let’s just drink beer. Beer and Beans. If we need water we can just melt snow. Dean.”

 

“Yes, Sam?”

 

“Are there any forks or spoons in the pack?”

 

“Nope.” Dean bundled up, and left. Inside Baby, he turned on the car, turned off the fan, then turned on the lights. He looked around, under Sam’s seat he found a spork. He turned off Baby, the lights, and washed the spork with snow and went back inside. He stamped the snow off himself, “I found a spork!” Pleased with himself he walked over to the fire and warmed up his hands.

 

“That’s it. Only one?” Sam gave Dean a look, “Why do you have to keep the car so, so empty?”

 

“Are you suggesting I not take care of Baby? When we redo the pack, there will be silverware in it.”

 

They ate side by side, watching the fire, sharing the spork. Sam went out to piss. Afterwards he rubbed his hands with snow, and cleaned the spork, the can, and packed it with snow. Coming back inside, he set the can next to the fireplace. He warmed his hands and looked at Dean. “I just cleaned a spork.” They both laughed. Sam dropped the spork in the pack.

 

They refilled the can with snow three or four times. Later, the wind picked up. Dean pissed just outside the door, “I just about froze my dick off,” he rubbed his crotch. Sam put his boots near the fire, Dean stood in front of it, until he felt better. He left his boots near the fire also, later he crossed them on the mattress and used them as a pillow.

 

Dean, opened the plastic bag, and took out the Mylar blankets, between them a ‘Busty Asian Beauties’ fell out. “Oh. I forgot I had that in there.” He laid down, covered himself with the flimsy blanket. And started to read the magazine. Sam wrapped up in his blanket and sat looking at the fire. He opened another beer.

After a while Dean said, “It would have been fun to see a Yeti.”

 

“Yeah. Do you think they are a man or an animal?” Asked Sam, as he rearranged the pack to the other end of the sofa, so their heads were next to each other. As he laid down, he tucked his feet under the pack.

 

“A person with some sort of virus, or rabies. Maybe. Why? What kind of animal do you think it could be?” He turned to look at Sam.

 

“Maybe some guys dressed up as a bear. Making it look like a bear is walking on his hind legs,” said Sam. They laughed. Sam sat up and opened the pack. Sam took out the knife and started cutting along the top of the sofa.

 

Dean went back to his magazine. “Like those kids this morning.”

 

“Yeah. Kids having fun. She took our picture.” Sam cut the entire length and started pulling the back of the sofa down, he cut some more. He removed a section near his feet, and handed it to Dean. He shut the knife and placed it back in the pack.

 

“She took a picture of Baby’s butt.” Added Dean as he placed the cushion on his boots. They both thought of the ramifications of a bunch of kids having Baby’s license plate number. Sam rearranged his mylar blanket, making crinkling sounds, and folded the back of the sofa over himself.

 

The wind kept gusting. “Maybe we should make a note about that place.” Dean was asleep.

 

A nightmare woke Dean, groggily he tried to drink some of the water and spilled it. The wind was howling. He went back to sleep, immediately. The blanket was on the floor next to him.

 

Castiel knew something was wrong. Dean was suffocating. Castiel crashed in through the roof. “Dean!” He looked at Dean, nobody was strangling Dean. The ceiling was covered with a layer of smoke, and with a wave, he broke out the windows, wind came rushing in. The smoke cleared. He picked Dean up, and with a flap, was placing him in his bed. Castiel returned for Sam, flipped up the back of the sofa, grabbed him with the Mylar sheet, and with a flap, put him into his own bed. He checked Sam’s forehead, he wasn’t dying and he wasn’t too cold. He covered Sam with his blankets, when he decided Sam was ok.

 

Castiel returned to Dean and touched him. He knew Dean was cold, but he was like a metal statue in the park, at night, in the middle of winter. He placed his hand on Dean’s chest, Castiel was shocked, something was poisoning Dean. Dean’s chest glowed. Castiel healed him. Dean’s breathing became easier. Castiel ripped the covers off Dean, then most of his clothes. “You need a big furry..” He thought a moment, and returned with a polar bear pelt, which he laid fur side down on Dean. The pelt was the largest Castiel found. It was too long for the bed and trailed on the floor over to the desk and door.

 

Castiel slipped off his coat and shoes, he was about to join Dean, when he stripped down to his underwear. Then he crawled under the fur. He thought hugging Dean was like hugging an ice sculpture. He kissed Dean. Dean gave no response. Castiel wrapped his left arm around Dean’s neck. Dean’s face was against his chest and neck. Tenderly Castiel held Dean close. He ran his right hand up and down Dean’s torso warming him. Finally, Dean took a deep breath and hugged Castiel back. Castiel, hot with relief, breathed deeply.

 

Dean shivered and wound his hands right into Castiel’s armpits.

 

Castiel knew Dean was free of the toxins, and all he needed was to warm up, and he’d be okay. Castiel looked at Dean with love. He wished Dean was awake. Awake enough to enjoy this moment as much as he was enjoying hugging Dean.

 

Dean hand touched Cas’s bare belly with his cold fingers.

 

Castiel opened his mouth wide, bent his head forward saying a tiny “Ah”. As Dean froze various parts of Castiel, he moved his hands to a new location. Castiel found Dean’s movements, while cold, very nice. He wished again, that while Dean was feeling him up, he was aware of what he was doing. Finally Dean was warmed up, he snuggled into Castiel. 

 

In the morning, Dean had one hand under Castiel’s lower back and the other in between his thighs. Castiel looked down at the top of Dean’s head. He slipped out of Dean’s embrace, and out from under the fur. He put on his clothes, and returned to the cabin.

 

The wind had died. Castiel looked around the snow covered room, the fire was out. He picked up Dean’s boots and knocked the snow off them. He opened the sofa where Sam had been and found the pack, he opened it and placed the boots inside, then lifted the mattress and found Dean’s pistol, and added it to the pack. He looked up when he heard Dean back at the bunker yelling- “What!”- he chose to ignore him. But, he hurried as he carried the pack by a strap, picked up Sam’s snow covered boots, and went to the Impala. The snow continued coming down. If Castiel had taken the time, he would have seen the flakes of snow gently floating by himself, were lit beautifully by the morning sun. He reached thru the snow to touch the car, and returned with the Impala to the bunkers’ garage. He set the pack and Sam’s boots down and left.

 

Dean woke with a white furry skin on him. YETI! He jumped up yelling “What! What! What, what is this?” He stood there in his underwear. As Sam ran in, he had to push the door against the bear skin.

 

Sam looked at Dean asking, “What? What?” He turned towards the doorjamb. “Dean, there is nothing here but that thing.” exasperated he left, “I’m making coffee.”

 

“Good idea Sam. But, I don’t remember taking my clothes off.” He walked over the pelt, stopped and stared at the white fur. He rubbed his head. He found his pants on the floor, took out his keys, threw the pants down, took out a fresh pair and put them on. He took out a shirt and put it on. Dean went into the kitchen.”Sammy, how did we get here?”

 

“We drove.”

 

Dean shook his head no, “I have my keys, wait, where’s my boots?”

 

“You have your keys. We drove home.”

 

Again Dean shook his head no. “And where did the pelt come from?” Dean asked as he left for the garage. There sat baby covered in a foot of snow. “Oh Baby.” He used his hands to push snow off the Impala’s hood. “Yikes.” Barefoot he ran around the garage and brought back several old towels. He began wiping off the car.

 

Sam joined him, he took a towel and walked around to the other side asking “You must have been cold. Where did you get the, the rug?” He reached down saying “Hey, here’s my shoes and the backpack.” He opened it. “Here’s your pistol and your boots.” He handed Dean the pistol, he put the boots on the floor. “Why are my shoes covered in snow? Why is Baby covered?”

 

Dean slid the cold pistol into the back of his pants, shivered, and looked at the snow sliding off Baby. “Does this look like the top half of a hand print to you?” He held his hand up to it.

 

Sam nodded yes.

 

“This has got to be Cas. Cas! Where are you?” Dean yelled as he put a boot on. He made a face at how cold it was. He took it off.

 

“I wonder why he brought us back here?”

 

“I need some socks. And aspirin.” Dean declared, and walked out. He returned wearing a different pair of shoes. They cleaned up Baby.

 

Dean made his bed, inside he found Castiel’s tie. He untied it, folded it and tucked it under his pillow. He took out his headphones and laid on the bear skin, listening to music. He had made the bed with the excess pelt, flipping around and under the bed.

 

Sam walked by, with a mop and bucket. He stopped mid stride. He looked at Dean. Dean lifted the headphones. “What?” asked Sam.

 

“I think it’s a Yeti.”

 

“Where did you get it?”

 

Dean shrugged, “Cas has got some explaining to do”, he put the headphones back on. Sam left.

 

Dean took out Cas’s tie, he looked at it. He ran his thumb and forefinger, of his right hand, along a length of the tie, over and over. He couldn’t remember seeing Cas the night before. Later, he sat at his desk and added the tie to his keepsake drawer.


	4. Castiel takes care of the cabin.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel and Dean. They are honest with each other. And they still keep missing each other.

Meanwhile, Castiel returned to the cabin. The sky was clear and blue. Everything was covered in a blanket of white. There was a hushed sound to the world, except for the birds. Who were twittering and flying all around. A can of beer, a plastic blanket and a magazine were all that Castiel found of Sam and Dean’s. He took the magazine. He stood in the imprint made by the Impala. The snow here was at least a foot shallower or more, than the surrounding area. Castiel stared with flat, unfeeling expression, at the cabin. This place had almost killed Dean. With a flick of his fingers, the cabin began to burn from the ground up to the top. Leaving behind a grey version of the cabin in ash. Castiel watched as the wind blew away the ash. Leaving behind the chimney and foundation. On the far side rock steps led down into a storm cellar. Castiel held up a hand and clenched it into a fist. The rocks crushed to dust. He looked at the black and grey scar in the middle of the backdrop of snow covered trees. Castiel left.

 

A car drove by. A blond and pink haired girl riding shotgun examined a device in her hands, “This must be the place.”

A mascot-shirted boy slowed the car and allowed the car to fall back and into the driveway saying, “Whoa. What happened here?” He pulled backed back into the street. He did not want to be stuck in the ditch on the side of the road.

The girl in the back seat opened her window, “This must have just happened. How else could it not have any snow on it?” She got out and picked her way over to where the cabin had been. She noticed there was no smell of fire, in the air. She stood on the gravel of the once cabin, “Look, a car was parked here.”

Pink hair asked, “How long does it look? Remember the impala is a long car.” 

“I don’t know.”

Mascot said, “Pace it out.”

“Take big steps, count how many you take. From one end to the other.” Added pink hair.

“Nine, or ten steps,” replied the girl. She went back to the snow free area, and looked around at the ground.

“What do you see?” Asked Pink hair.

She took out her camera and took a few pictures. She thought a moment and took another of where the Impala had been sitting. She exclaimed, “What!” And took photos of Castiel’s footprints.

“What did you see?” Asked Pink Hair, not wanting to get out of the car, but wanting to know what her friend was seeing.

She sent the photos to the rest of the group. She went back to the gravel, picked up something, and returned to the car, “Way too cold out here.” The driver raised the windows. She got in. “Look.” She held out her hand, to show them the handful of broken rocks. They were all uniformly small. After they looked at the rocks, she put them into her pocket.

“Who’s footprints are these?”

“Their not mine. There is no trail up to them.”

 “So, somebody got into the car, and then drove away.” Said mascot-shirt.

She was a little tired of being doubted by mascot-shirt, “No. And! There are no tracks, of when the Impala drove away.” Everyone stopped looking at their phones and snapped to look at where the Impala had stood.

Pink hair took over, “Well, they are not here. The car is gone. And the cabin is gone. But the car was here. And they were here. And they are gone. Okay, let’s go.” Mascot-shirt drove them back down the hill.

 

Dean sat at his desk, elbows propped up, with his head in his hands, “Cas where are you?” The room door shut.

“Hello Dean,” said Castiel.

 

Dean turned and looked at him, “What happened? Where were you?” He sat up, and swiveled around to face Cas.

“There was, something wrong with the fireplace. I didn’t like the cabin. I took care of it.” Castiel looked around.

“So you bought us back here?” Castiel nodded yes. “What’s with that?” Dean pointed to the pelt.

“You were cold. Very cold. I wanted to warm you up.”

“Where’d it come from? You didn’t..”

“A museum.”

“Oh.” They looked at each other. Dean stood up, he took a step towards Cas, “Thank you.”

“Your welcome Dean.”  Dean wanted to run his hands through Castiel’s feathers.

“Sam is coming, I should go.”

Dean reached his hand out, “Thank you Cas.” He didn’t know what he was going to do. What he wanted to do was touch Castiel. What he wanted to do was kiss him. What he wanted to do was a lot of things, when Castiel reached out and placed the magazine in his hand.

“I found this.”

Dean turned towards the desk, “Thanks Cas,” and dropped the magazine on it. He turned back, Castiel was gone. Dean went to the bed, bent down, and lifted the edge of the pelt. He followed the edge around to the other side. Sam knocked lightly on the door. “Yeah, yeah, come on in.”

 

Sam entered the bedroom, “Hey, Dean.”

“Look at this.” Dean flipped up the edge of the pelt revealing a tag. It had the name of a museum, with two numbers, and a city. “It says it’s from someplace in, I don’t know what language this is. It’s not our letters, our alphabet.”

“I made food. We can find out later, after all we are the Men of Letters,” Sam left.

 

“Yeah, be right there,” Dean put the fur back down, placed the magazine into the bottom drawer and entered the kitchen. A small feast, was on the table. “Wow, thanks Sammy.” He joined Sam at the table. “Lasagna!” They started eating.

“I heated food.”

“It’s all good, Sam.”

“Thanks.”

Dean helped himself to salad, “Cas dropped in, he said something was wrong with the fireplace, so he brought us back here.”

“Cool. Glad he brought Baby and everything back.”

Dean laughed, “He even brought back my magazine.”

Sam laughed too, “Where would we be without ‘Busty Asian Beauties!’”

“The end of the world.” They laughed again.


End file.
